


Life and Love

by Lady_Ley



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Ice Adolescence (Yuri!!! on Ice), M/M, feel the awws
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 12:43:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,668
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17467787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lady_Ley/pseuds/Lady_Ley
Summary: This was my submission for the Ice Adolescence zine





	Life and Love

“Viktor Nikiforov, the name is synonymous with gold it seems. The most decorated men's figure skater in recent history sat down with me in his Saint Petersburg home to discuss his career and what he calls his two L words; life and love. 

Interviewer: Mr. Nikiforov, thank you so much for taking the time to meet with me in your lovely home. 

Nikiforov: Please, Viktor is just fine and thank you for coming out to speak with me today. I have been so busy lately that it seems like I haven’t had the chance to make time for my fans, for that I am sorry. “

\---

Viktor looked up from from the magazine in his hands as he heard the front door unlock and open. He couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he watched Yuuri unhook Makka from his lead and coo to him about how he was such a good boy. His eyes followed the pair as they moved into the kitchen where Yuuri promptly got Makka treats, a post walk ritual, and a glass of water for himself. 

“Nice walk?” Viktor asked before he moved to allow Yuuri room to snuggle up to him on the couch. 

“Mmm” Yuuri hummed as he wrapped his arms around Viktor’s torso and peppered his neck with kisses.

“The magazine with the interview came in.” Viktor said nonchalantly as he held up the said periodical with a devilish grin. Yuuri reached out for it quickly with with greedy hands causing Viktor to chuckle. He knew that this was something that Yuuri had been waiting on. Despite being engaged to the man, Yuuri was still a huge fanboy and Viktor took pleasure in feeding Yuuri’s obsessions. 

“You started to read it without me!” Yuuri cried out indignantly which made Viktor only laugh harder. Of course Viktor already knew what the interview said, he had been sent a copy before it was published just to ensure that it met his standards. Yuuri, on the other hand, had not been allowed to see it prior to publishing per the magazine’s wishes. 

It wasn’t often that Viktor was told he should keep something a secret from his soon to be husband, but when it came to things like this, Viktor was more than happy to do so and tease the man every step of the way. Especially since Yuuri had become a staple in his interviews. 

“Well, I had to make sure that I looked good in the picture.” Viktor defended as he leaned back against the couch dramatically. “I must say, they got my good side.”

“Careful,” Yuuri teased, “your ego is showing and it’s making you look a lot like JJ.” Viktor’s hand flew to his forehead as he flopped even further down onto the couch in a dramatic faint. 

“You wound me.” 

“You’ll live.” Yuuri laughed as he leaned back against his fiance and began to read the interview in ernest. 

“Interviewer: You often credit your soon to be husband Katsuki Yuuri with helping you find your ‘L’ words. What does that mean? 

Nikiforov: What do my ‘L’ words mean? Katsuki Yuuri helped me find my life and love.

Interviewer: What exactly does that mean, your life and love?”

Viktor read over that one line three… four… five times. It had been a wild ride for the past two years, that was sure. A lot had changed and Viktor knew that the person in his arms eagerly eating up ever word of the interview was the reason for the change. 

Viktor closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the arm of the couch. So much had changed - 

Russia was cold, bitterly so. No one in their right mind ever visited the ocean when it was winter. The winds wiped off the water and bit into Viktor’s exposed skin like he was stuck in a storm of flying glass shards. Strands of his hair broke free of his coat and his scarf and violently stormed around his face like some kind of a force field keeping everyone out and Viktor locked in his own mind. 

He watched trying to be interested in the antics of his new puppy as he bounded happily around the piles of snow. Sixteen seemed far too young to be jaded, far to young for depression to set in. Viktor knew that he has so much more than most people ever had in their lives. He was a natural born talent into a sport that his country loved to watch him compete in. He was well liked, even loved by some. He wanted for naught. He had more money that he knew what to do with. And yet, despite all of that, there was something missing. 

He had tried to explain this to Yakov on more than one occasion but he found himself more often than not just brushed off and told that he needed to work on his jumps. He knew that it wasn’t because the grumpy coach didn’t care about what Viktor was going through, in fact, he was pretty sure that Yakov knew all too well what it was like. No, Viktor was pretty sure that the issue was more along the lines of Yakov not knowing what to do to help the boy. It was hard to make friends when your life was filled with hours of skating and what time he wasn’t on the ice was spent with tutors. Viktor knew that the time he spent on the ice wasn’t the only issue. He knew that there were people who viewed him as a threat. He was, after all, the man that would breath new life into Russian men’s figure skating. On more than one occasion he had heard some of his teammates saying less than savory things about him behind his back. 

He tried to brush it off, he tried to ignore the pain that he felt in his chest whenever he thought about it, he tried to be okay with the fact that he was always kept at a careful distance. He tried, but more often than not he failed. The pain would be too much to bear in the end and he would collapse in tears on his bed each night, lost, drowning, and not sure who to turn to or how to surface again. 

It seemed, at least to him, that the universe had determined that he didn’t need the comfort of friends. It was that belief that made Viktor push himself harder on the ice. The lack of a support system made him turn to his fans for the validation that he craved. Validation turned into expectation and expectation turned into pressure. Before he knew it, Viktor was drowning again as he tried to keep his fans and the media happy. 

By the time Viktor was eighteen he had forgotten what it felt like to be normal. He had forgotten the way that if felt to have time to yourself. He had forgotten what it was like to have time to do things that weren’t ice skating. The distance between his rinkmates and himself continued to grow to the point that Viktor thought about leaving the sport for good. Yakov, however, would hear nothing of it. 

“What do you think you will do when you leave the sport? You are eighteen, you just finished high school, you have no work experience apart from skating. Like hell I am letting you throw it all away.” 

So Viktor pushed harder and harder until the crushing weight of depression became so constant that it was normal. The mask he put on in front of the media was so well formed that no one noticed Viktor never smiled outside of interviews. He threw everything he was into two things: skating and Makka.

\---

“Viktor are you listening to me?” Yuuri pouted as he poked Viktor’s cheek. Viktor lifted his head and looked at Yuuri with a sheepish smile. 

“I am sorry, love, what were you saying?” Yuuri looked at him with concern. It wasn’t often that Yuuri had seen Viktor slip into thoughts that egged on his depression, but there was something about the way that he looked in that moment that made him worry for his fiance. 

“Are you okay?” He watched as Viktor plastered the fake media smile on his face and nodded enthusiastically before pressing a kiss into Yuuri’s hair causing the man to grumble. 

“I am fine.” 

“Liar.” The accusation made Viktor jump a little and the smile fell from his face. He was still adjusting the the fact that Yuuri knew him well enough to call him out on his lies. A slight sigh escaped his lips but he nodded as if answering an unasked question. 

“Just a little lost in thought is all. Nothing to worry about, it is in the past.” Viktor’s face melted into the genuine smile that Yuuri had learned to love over the past few months. “Nothing I have to worry about anymore because I have you with me now.” Makka let out a bark as she came padding out from the kitchen and tried to wiggle her way up onto the small couch with them. 

“Yes, and I have you too, Makka.” His tail began to rapidly thump against the couch cushion, pleased with Viktor’s inclusion. “Now what was it that you were saying?” Yuuri looked him over, unsure on if he wanted to believe Viktor’s claim of being okay or not. 

“You know you have me, you will always have me,” Yuuri said softly, “always.” Viktor plucked the magazine out of Yuuri’s hands and placed it on the coffee table before wrapping both of his arms around the love of his life and pulling him as close as humanly possible. 

“Always.” Viktor whispered before pressing his lips softly to Yuuri’s.

“Nikiforov: Yuuri, he saved me from myself when no one else could. He made me want to do more than just live, he makes me want to thrive.”


End file.
